Not in Kansas
by epic-adventures-of-SNL
Summary: What happens when two normal girls are transported into the world of their favorite TV show? Saving people, hunting things, and pranking the Winchesters. (Not entirely canon, kind of a crack fic, and we don't own Supernatural. Just give this story a shot, you might like it.)
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**A/N: Hi! Welcome to the very first chapter of our very first story together. We have big plans for this story and hope you all enjoy it.**

**First things first: we understand what canon is, and have researched it thoroughly where it concerns the show. This story will not be canon. There will be a lot of canon moments, hopefully, but it is now our story and we're just going to have fun with it. We love Supernatural, and therefore, we are going to make fun of it here and there.**

**The basis of this story comes from authors Tamara and Brittany (The Adventures of T and B) and we are hereby acknowledging our theft of their idea. (We hope they don't mind.)**

**Also, this story is basically what would happen if we were to insert ourselves into the world of Supernatural. Please understand that we do not own Sam and Dean-as well as all other characters-so they might all become a bit OOC. It happens.**

**Each chapter will either be my (Shelby) or Lindsey's point of view. It will be specified at the beginning of the chapter (and it'll also be pretty easy to figure out). Each of us will be paired with another character from the show, but we will let the story develop that.**

**Thank you for reading, and enjoy!**

**UPDATE- Noticed a few things wrong with the chapter, so it was re-edited, and uploaded again.**

**Shelby POV**

"Why didn't you wake me up when my alarm went off?!" Lindsey shrieks as she flies past me back into her room. Her long, blonde hair nearly whips me across the face. I choke back laughter as I notice that she's only wearing one shoe and hurriedly slip on my own, since I was running just as late as she was.

"Maybe it's because I, you know, _didn't wake up either_," I tell her with an eye roll. She rushes out of the bathroom a moment later and says something I can't understand due to the toothbrush in her mouth. Of course, my lateness wasn't nearly as bad as hers. For one thing, I'd been up at least ten minutes before her. For another thing, I could get ready more quickly. But still, late was late.

Normally we didn't have this problem. Both Lindsey and I were usually up early and on time to work._ I wonder why my alarm didn't go off_, I silently muse. _I _know_ I set it last night. It should've gone off three or four times. I always hear it..._

Maybe we'd both been extra tired, even after having a Sunday off. Work six days a week will do that to you. Or maybe it was because we'd both stayed up late watching Supernatural. Either or.

"Hey!" Lindsey shouts from somewhere down the hallway. "Do you have your clothes for Amy's party?"

"Yeah, got them! And yours, too," I shout back.

"Thanks, dollface!" She pokes her head out of the bathroom and winks at me. I wink back and blow her a kiss.

I don't give myself any more time to ponder the strangeness of our tardiness and instead fix Lindsey's coffee to give her one less thing to have to do. A few minutes later, we both grab our car keys, our purses and coffee, and our changes of clothes for the party after work, and run out of the door.

I slam into something solid, something human. Our door slams behind us.

"Excuse me," I mutter, about to go around them. I hear Lindsey say something along the lines of

"Oops, sorry," and then she gasps.

"What the hell?" a slightly familiar, gruff voice says from my left. I immediately crane my neck and look upwards at the person I'd run into.

"Holy shit no way," I exclaim, looking over to my left. I can tell that Lindsey is thinking something very similar. We exchange shocked glances just as the two men in front of us do the same.

"I thought you said that this apartment was _empty_."

"It was supposed to be!"

"Holy. Shit," I repeat again. There was no way this was happening.

"Jared! Jensen!" Lindsey splutters. Both of the men freeze instantly and quit arguing about the apartment. They exchange another glance. Jared is the one who recovers fastest.

"Who are you talking about?" he asks carefully. I can see Jensen's hand slip casually into his jacket. He pulls out an FBI badge and shows it to us. I'm pretty sure the name on it says Agent Han Solo.

"Really Jensen?" I ask, crossing my arms. Lindsey raises her eyebrows at the two men.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jensen growls, staring confusedly at his badge. He was probably wondering if that was the name he'd put on it. He and Jared exchange a look.

"What...? We're talking about-" Lindsey is interrupted by the splash of water in her face. I giggle at her expression before being drenched with it, too. Lindsey and I both sigh at the same time. I roll my eyes, and see that she does, too.

"That's no way to pick up a lady," Lindsey splutters.

With a flash of silver, cuts open up on both mine and Lindsey's forearms. A knife in Jensen's hand has cut through the sleeve of one of my nicest work blouses. Lindsey lets out a shriek of anger and slaps Jensen across the face. He stumbles backwards, caught off guard.

"Don't cut me!" she yells, cradling her bleeding arm. She looks at me incredulously. "He cut me!"

"That's it," Jensen growls, pinning her to the wall. He handcuffs her quickly. I notice that she doesn't seem to mind being so close to him-in fact, she gives him a brilliant smile-and also that he hesitates ever so slightly before backing away from her. I hold my hands up in surrender towards Jared.

"If I promise not to hit anybody, do I get out of wearing the handcuffs?" I ask with a wry grin.

"Nice try,"Jared says before he cuffs me, too. I let out a little sigh and shift my arms a little bit.

"Is this Punk'd or something?" Lindsey asks. She shifts her arms uncomfortably behind her back. "You guys do realize Supernatural is just a show, right?"

"Oh God. All actors have mental breakdowns.. its finally happened to them." I mumble. "Of course this would happen to _us_."

"You didn't have to make them so _tight_," I add with an indignant huff. I tilt my nose in the air like a snobby princess would. Lindsey grins at me. Despite the odd circumstances and the handcuffs and the matching forearm cuts, I was excited. Jared and Jensen. Even though they were obviously cracked up in the head, it was still insanely awesome to be with them. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, in a way. A weird, shouldn't-be-happening kind of once in a lifetime experience.

"Wha-Punk'd? Supernatural? What the hell?" Jensen growls. Lindsey and I make similar faces of bemusement.

A slight uneasy feeling is starting to grow in my stomach. I know I'm still in shock and haven't fully comprehended the weight and the weirdness of everything, but I can't help it. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles had been _standing outside of our apartment_. In what universe did that ever happen to two normal people like Lindsey and me?

I watch as Jensen picks the lock on our apartment and debate giving him my key. Of course, it was in my pocket and my hands were cuffed... I decide against telling him I have a key.

He shoves the door open after only a few seconds, gun drawn. I was mildly impressed. Maybe he could teach me how to unlock any door with nothing but a bobby pin.

"What the hell?" Lindsey, Jensen, and I all say at the same time. Instead of our lovely, sunny apartment, this place is bare and absolutely covered in blood. Massive amounts of blood splatters the walls, windows, and hardwood floors. There were no bodies anywhere, though. Jared and Jensen immediately turn on us with their guns pointed at our foreheads.

"What are you? You aren't demons or shifters, so_ what are you_?" Jensen demands. I briefly wonder whether or not they'd started snorting coke or something. Drugs do kill brain cells pretty quickly. And LSD makes you hallucinate.

"We're humans and that is not our apartment," Lindsey says. "We definitely had furniture and carpet and food in ours." A note of hysteria creeps into her voice. I feel similarly. What the hell had happened to our apartment?

"What state are we in?" I ask Jensen after a moment. Lindsey must have noticed the more crisp air coming in through the open window down at the end of the hallway, and now through an open window inside the apartment. It'd been a warm, sunny day at our apartment, but not here. Jensen simply stares at me instead of replying, so I give an impatient motion with my hands. It was more of a flail because of the handcuffs, but I figured he'd get the point. I probably looked a bit like a fish out of water, flopping around awkwardly.

"You're about to get your damn heads blown off, and you want to know what state we're in?" he asks. "That's almost sickening how stupid that stalling tactic is. Are you on the run from the government or something?"

"_What state_?" I repeat, more urgently this time. Jared shoots Jensen a look before answering me.

"Uh...South Dakota," Jared mumbles. Jensen glares at him, who just shrugs. My jaw drops open.

"Um, hello, but we were in _South Carolina_, not _South_ _Dakota_. They may both say south in them but that is not-they are _not the same thing_!" Her voice is still slightly hysterical. Her brown eyes are huge and slightly wild. Blonde hair is starting to escape the tight ponytail she has it in.

"There is no way in hell you were in South Carolina, so don't give us the whole 'not in Kansas anymore' act," Jensen interjects. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. "They could be lying about this just to confuse us!"

"Why would we even lie about that?" I ask, disbelief coloring my voice. "We are just as damn confused as you are."

Jared pushes his fellow actor's shoulder with one hand, still pointing his gun at me with the other, and pulls him aside. I can plainly hear every word they're saying to each other and roll my eyes.

They must think that moving two feet away and huddling together creates some sort of cone of silence around themselves.

I turn to Lindsey and huddle closer to her, mocking the brothers.

"Oh my god we're with Jensen and Jared ,"she whispers to me. I grin at her and she grins back.

"Do they really think they're Sam and Dean?" I reply softly. A cold wind blows in through the open window. We stare at each other, mouths hanging slightly open.

"Oh my god I think-oh God. It's all real. We're in the show. I'm pretty sure we're actually in the

show," Lindsey whispers. Her breath tickles my cheek and I rub my face on my shoulder. It made perfect sense, though. There was simply no other explanation for the change in place. It was almost like our apartment had been the TARDIS.

"Technically, it's just another universe," I point out. "I have no idea how it's another universe, but apparently it is...That's _Sam and Dean_."

"Holy shit. I can't even-So...are we going to just go along with it until we figure out how all of this happened?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." I shrug. This was so... weird. But kind of awesome, in a way.

"So what do we tell them? How do we explain calling them the wrong names? What do we even say?" She has a good point. For one thing, we've both seen every episode of the show up to date, and have no idea what season we're currently in. If the same events have even happened. My head starts to ache.

"Do they know Chuck yet?" I murmur. "We could have read the books about them. That is, if they've even met him."

"Yeah! But only...let's not act like Crazy Becky, if they've even met her yet." Lindsey and I share a cringe thinking about Becky.

"Also, uh, where did all this blood come from? Do humans even _have_ this much blood?" We both snicker quietly, attracting the attention of Sam and Dean. Sam's forehead does the thing and we laugh harder.

"Look, we'll just call Rufus, have him take care of this, and take these two to Bobby," Sam says quietly to Dean. "I don't know what else to do." Dean gives his brother a withering look but doesn't argue. Lindsey and I finally manage to suppress our laughter.

"Hey, why the _hell_ did you call us Jared and Jensen?" Dean reaches out and grips the top of my arm tightly, as if holding me back from an attempt to run away. I try to shrug him off but he merely squeezes tighter. I'd probably have finger-shaped bruises.

"Uh, we went to a party last night and met two guys with those names. We must still be a bit hung over," Lindsey cuts in. Dean studies her for a moment before accepting what she says. They probably don't believe us, but they'd hear the truth from us sooner or later.

Less than five minutes later the boys lead us downstairs and into chilly autumn air. I let out a little sigh as the Impala comes into view. Sleek, black, and filled with all kinds of badass weapons. You couldn't _not_ love her.

"Oh hello, beautiful," Lindsey murmurs as Sam and Dean shove us, still handcuffed, into the back of the car. In just moments, we're about to be on our way to meet the real Bobby Singer, in person, for the very first time. Part of me wonders what'd happened in the apartment that was ours but not really ours. Hopefully Rufus would sort it out. I also hoped that Sam and Dean wouldn't think we were just normal, run-of-the-mill murderers.

"You know this thing has horrible crash-test ratings, right?" Lindsey pipes up from our spot in the back seat as Dean starts the engine. Sam and Dean share a groan.

"Yeah, I think they know that," I reply nonchalantly. We both crack up as Dean pulls out of the apartment's parking lot.

"It's also not very fuel-efficient!"


	2. The Tea Party

**Lindsey POV**

The Impala rumbles into a big junkyard full of old, rusty cars. Sam and Dean open the doors for us once we stop and lead us towards Bobby's house. After many long, taxing hours in the backseat of the car with the boys questioning us on _everything_, it was nice to be able to stretch our legs. My arms are uncomfortably tingly.

"Ugh, cars," Shelby mumbles to herself as we look around at the junkyard around Bobby's house. She stumbles slightly over the uneven ground, graceful as ever. Sam grabs her arm and steadies her but she pulls away from his touch with a snooty glare.

"Do we _have_ to be tied up?" I grumble. "It's not like you guys can't catch us. Shelby would probably trip."

Shelby elbows me in the side and makes me yelp. I immediately try to kick her feet out from under her, but we're wrenched apart by Sam and Dean. They both seem confused by the fact that Shelby and I are insulting each other and trying to fight but still laughing. They must not have had many friends.

Dean pulls me up onto Bobby's porch and knocks loudly a few times. We wait in awkward silence out of the door for a few moments. Shelby and I pass the time by making stupid faces at each other in an understood contest to see who can get the other to laugh first.

The front door finally creaks open to reveal Bobby, clad in plaid and with crumbs in his beard. Shelby giggles a little, probably at the sight of this old, dirty guy. He raises his eyebrows and takes his time staring at each of us in turn, and studying the handcuffs on both Shelby and me. I give him a big, friendly smile.

"Demons?" he asks. Sam shakes his head. "Shapeshifters?"

"None of the above. We did every kind of test we could think of, Bobby. We've got nothing." Sam seems incredibly upset that they can't figure us out. "He's so adorable when he tries solve a mystery," Shelby whispers with a wink. Sam glances back at Shelby and his forehead does the thing. "Yeah, and that cut on my arm itches like crazy, thank you very much," she states loudly with an indignant huff. I nod my head in agreement and Shelby goes to cross her arms. The handcuffs get in the way and she sighs dramatically with a glance at me. I roll my eyes as if to say, _What_ _idiots_.

"Bring 'em in," Bobby says with a step out of the way. Sam pushes Shelby forward, and Dean follows with me in tow. I feel a hard pinch on my booty and let out a shocked gasp.

"Hey! Watch your hands!" I shriek, stomping on Dean's foot. "If you want to cop a feel, you just have to ask. Jeez."

Shelby laughs at that before turning around and craning her head upward to look at Sam.

"You try anything funny, I'll cut your balls off," She says with a grin and a wink. His forehead does the thing but he nods. I can tell that he doesn't know if she's serious or not.

"Where'd you find them?" Bobby asks, motioning for us to sit on a tattered couch. A fine layer of dust and dirt covers everything. Stacks of papers and books are here and there, and a few knife handles and shotgun barrels peek out from their hiding places. I wonder how many devil's traps he has etched into this place. Probably a lot.

"On our last case. They swear that this world isn't…theirs," Dean explains. He gives us a little look over his shoulder, like he's still unsure of our sanity. Shelby smiles widely at him just for the hell of it.

"Isn't…theirs?" Bobby repeats. "Care to explain that?"

"They said they were in their apartment, walked out with us, closed the door, and tried to go back in…and…it was different. They were in Charleston, apparently. South Carolina." Sam gives a little shrug, not entirely believing us either. At least he didn't think we were totally crazy as Dean had. He was giving us a chance.

"Hi, um, I'd like to say that we are, in fact, _still_ _here_, and can speak for ourselves," Shelby interjects impatiently. She rattles her handcuffs and stares pointedly at Dean.

"Right. Dean, take those things off of them. They ain't got nowhere to go, if they're telling the truth." _Bobby has such bad grammar_, I think to myself. Dean hesitates to do what Bobby said but strides over to us and unlocks our cuffs. I smile up at him and toss my hair over my shoulder subtly. He stares at me for just a moment longer than necessary before moving away again.

Bobby swings towards us in his swivel chair.

"Well, go ahead then," he says impatiently. I stare at the crumbs in his beard again and wonder what they're from. I can tell Shelby is resisting the urge to flick them off because her eye was twitching slightly. I try not to laugh.

"We were running late for work and ran out of our apartment and into Sam and Dean. They pointed guns at our faces and cut our forearms and cuffed us. When we went back into our apartment we were somewhere _completely_ different. Colder air, walls dramatically splattered with a lot of blood, no food," I explain, trying to keep it short and sweet. "We had a ton of food in our apartment." I feel like the lack of food part was important.

Dean and I make eye contact. I smile a small smile and the corner of his mouth goes up in response. He turns to Bobby and says, "I can't find any other explanation right now, Bobby." I notice that he seems to be hinting at something and share a suspicious look with Shelby.

"Well, then, ain't nothin' to do but just…" Bobby shrugs. "Can you two hunt?"

We both nod, having learned a thing or two by watching. It can't be that hard to do in real life, right?

"Great. You all can stay here tonight," Bobby says, causing Sam and Dean to exchange a skeptical look. I can almost hear the silent argument going on between them before Dean shrugs and Sam's forehead does the thing.

I stand and stretch, attracting Dean's attention again. Shelby hides a smile in her hand. I turn and something catches my eye. I let out a shocked, happy shout.

"A kitchen! Oh, man, am I going to treat y'all to some good food tonight." I exclaim as I skip off towards the small kitchen, smiling widely, and begin to root around in the cabinets and fridge.

"You guys are going to love this," Shelby states, stretching her legs out and then standing up. I notice with a smirk that Sam watches her just as Dean watched me. Sam and Dean create a little huddle with Bobby, talking about demons and parallel worlds. I guess they thought they were being quiet.

I find raw chicken, flour, corn meal, a lot of salt, pepper, raw okra, milk, and many assorted other ingredients I'll need for my home cooked meal.

Shelby enters the kitchen a few moments after me and beings looking under the kitchen sink and in cabinets for cleaning supplies. I notice that she also pulls out several gallons of what is labeled "Holy water" and a lot of cartons of rock salt. Then she pulls out bottles of Pledge, Windex and Clorox. She hugs them to her chest, "Oh thank God. I was afraid Bobby might not have any."

I giggle as I stir the batter for the cornbread muffins I'm making. Shelby comes up behind me and looks over my shoulder, "What's for dinner, sweetheart?" she asks with a peck on my cheek. I peek in more drawers before pulling out a frying pan, the main thing I'll need for my masterpiece. We both grin. Shelby steals a piece of apple I've cut up for a pie and munches on it. I slap her hand and she gives a little grumble.

"I can't believe he had all of this stuff here," she says after a moment. "Like, he has pecans _and_ apples _and_ pie crusts. It's a miracle."

A little while later, Bobby strides inside flanked by the two men, all sniffing the air. He sees Shelby on her toes, dusting a shelf and rearranging the papers and books in the room next to the kitchen. His eye twitches but he doesn't say anything. Then he watches as I pull the cornbread muffins out of the oven and place them on the stove. He raises his eyebrows and looks back at Sam and Dean.

"Now these two…I think I'll keep them. You two idjits are damn near useless." Shelby laughs and so does Bobby, while Sam and Dean exchange an almost hurt look.

"What…is that smell?" Sam asks. His green-brown eyes search the kitchen and land on the assortment of foods I have on the counter.

"Only the best Southern meal you could ever ask for, darlin'," I state from by the stove. I wipe my hands on a flowery apron that has a few holes in it that I found in one of the drawers. Was it Bobby's wife's? Hopefully he didn't notice, or care. I would hate to ruin our good impression.

"It's almost ready, if you guys want to go ahead and set the table," I add moving my hair out of my face.

"Hot, blonde, _and_ she can cook," Dean murmurs to himself. Shelby gives his shoulder a hard punch. Dean winces a little bit but tries to cover it up with a wink. I try to ignore the interaction going on between them so that I won't blush.

"I heard that," she says with a glare. Of course, later, Shelby and I will giggle and talk all about what he said, just like typical girls. I've always found Dean attractive, since the very first time I watched a Supernatural episode with Shelby. It gives me butterflies to think that Dean would find me attractive, too.

Shelby comes into the kitchen and washes her hands before helping me set the table. She hands three beers to Sam, who is staring at the food with intense desire, and motioned to the table to put them down. She pours two glasses of sweet tea I've made and sets them on the table for herself and I.

Pretty soon, Sam is wearing my (well, Bobby's) flowery apron and setting down all kinds of food onto the small dining room table as I finish cleaning up my workplace on the counters. He somehow pulls it off, even though he's the size of Sasquatch. I marvel at the fact that Bobby has had all of these ingredients in his kitchen and briefly see him in my mind's eye humming to himself in the flowery apron and making pies all night. Speaking of, I pop an apple and a pecan pie into the oven before coming over to the table and seating myself.

"Enjoy, boys," I says, folding my hands on the table. They all dig in, moaning in satisfaction as they taste the food. Dean watches me in awe, looking from me, to the food, to the oven, and back again. I send him a quick wink.

"Oh God, we are definitely keeping them," Sam says around a mouthful of fried chicken. We all laugh.

Later, when we were all eating the pie for dessert (and listening to Dean go on and on about how it's the best pie he's ever had), I hear a phone ringing from somewhere inside the house. No one goes to pick it up, so I ignore it too.

It rings at least eight more times before I mention it. "Uh, is someone going to go get the phone or..?"

Bobby nods his head and stands up from the table, "I will. I was too busy enjoying your pie to care." He gives me a kind smile and leaves the room.

A few moments later, I hear, "Aw hell. Boys, you better come in here." Dean and Sam share a look and push back from the table. "Excuse us," Sam mumbles as they leave the room.

Shelby and I sit in silence for a few moments. I was trying hard to overhear the mumbling that was going on in the room next to us. I could only manage to hear the words "Nebraska", "Case", and "murderous spirit".

"Hey, Lindsey, did you see that?" Shelby asks suddenly, turning to me with wide eyes. I raise my eyebrows and whirl around.

"See what? Is there a cockroach on the ceiling?" I move so that I'm in a position to easily jump up onto the seat in fear. I have dealt with those dang cockroaches on the ceiling too many times to be sorry for being afraid of bugs. She shakes her head with a shiver, saying, "No, thank God. But I'm pretty sure I just saw a... man looking through the window at us."

I gave her a bemused look, "A man looking through the window? Like a creeper or something?" I looked over at the window she was pointing to. "I don't see anyone?"

"Duh, he's gone now," Shelby replied with an eyeroll, "He looked so familiar though. I swear we've seen him before."

"Hm. Maybe you're hallucinating. You know, I might've slipped a few roofies onto your plate instead of Dean's by accident…" I mutter. Shelby laughs at my joke and stands up. A confused look crosses her face as she sticks her hand in her back pocket. She flails her arm a little as it gets stuck.

"Did we leave our wallets back home?" She inquires, checking her other pockets. I scrunch up my eyebrows. I check my pockets, "No, I'm sure we had them with us this morning."

We both turn and walk into the next room, where we find Bobby searching our names and pictures from our wallets on the FBI database. I place my hands on my hips skeptically and raise my eyebrows, feeling like an impatient mother.

"Maybe they're on the run?" Sam mutters as he watches over Bobby's shoulder. Dean, who was leaning on a wooden table near the wall stands up straighter when he notices that we walked in. He clears his throat. Bobby quickly closes out of the screen he was working on before he turns his office chair around to look at us.

"Were you guys just looking us up?" Shelby asks with her eyes narrowed and arms crossed. The boys exchanged glances. I leaned over to her and whispered, "That is so cool." She wiggles her eyebrows and nods in a fangirly way.

"Uh, well," Sam stutters. "Yeah?"

"Dude! You're supposed to lie!" Dean hisses, punching his brother on the arm. "They could be _murderers_."

"If I was a murderer I would've put poison in your food." I roll my eyes as if this were an obvious fact. Sam's eyes widened. Bobby and Dean both let out an uneasy chuckle. "And when did you get our wallets by the way?"

Dean gave me a mischievous wink. I find it funny that he's winking at me even though he thinks I could be a murderer. Sam looked over to Shelby and shrugged. "Well, I got yours when you tripped..."

My eyes widened and I look at Dean in disapproving shock, "You dirty bastard."

Shelby pointed her finger up at Sam's face, "I swear to God if you touched my butt I will murder you in your sleep." He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step back.

I glared over at Shelby and smacked her arm, "Hey! Not helping our case here…"

"Well," Bobby started standing up from his cool chair, "We haven't found any incriminating evidence as of yet, so I don't think it would hurt to start training these girls."

"Training…?" Shelby and I ask in unison. We look at each other and high-five giddily.

"Hell yeah!"

Dean placed a few guns on the table: a Baikal sawed-off, double barrel shotgun; a .45 caliber Colt MKIV pistol; and a Desert Eagle.

"Ooooooh," I run my hand over the ivory handle of the .45. Shelby came up behind me and looked over my shoulder. She reaches her hand out for the Baikal, "I want the big one!"

I gave her an unsure look, "Are you sure..?" But she just responded with a cocky smile. Dean handed her the shotgun with a smirk on his face. She took it happily and walks over to where we were supposed to be shooting from and waited.

I glance back down to the guns, "I guess I'll take the .45 Colt." Dean hands me the gun with a smile, "I like a woman who knows her weapons."

I just smile up at him and strut off to where Shelby is standing. Bobby and Sam walk up from setting up the target about 20 feet away.

"Most of our fighting is going to be up close, so we figured we'll put the target close up for ya," Bobby stated. Sam walks up to Shelby, "So do you know how to use one of these things?

"Yes, I do," she replies confidently. Sam takes the gun from her and loads it before placing it back in her hands.

"Are you sure…?" he repeats. "It has a kick to it, and you're kind of small…"

"I'm no Sasquatch if that's what you're saying," she says, placing her free hand on her hip. I start to laugh really hard. Even Dean and Bobby chuckle. Sam gives his brother a dirty look. Dean shrugs innocently.

Shelby carefully aims the gun and takes a deep breath. Sam places a hand on her lower back, earning a mean look from her. I can't help but snicker. He removes his hand and allows her to continue,

She pulls the trigger…

And immediately flies backwards onto her butt, half in Sam's arms.

I begin to cackle wildly, pointing at her and struggling to get words to come out of my mouth. "Oh… my God… you just… you just flew like… four feet back… oh my God… please don't ever use one of those in a fight…"

"Hey!" she shouts, laughing a little (probably at me laughing). "I hit the target!"

And, apparently, she has. Right on the bullseye. Sam is still kind of holding her and staring incredulously down at her like she's a gift from God. I roll my eyes. Dean, laughing, steps up and pulls the gun out of her hands.

"Alright, Annie Oakley, you get a different gun for fighting," he chuckles. Bobby shakes his head. Sam finally lets go of Shelby and steps away from her, kind of embarrassed. Maybe he peeked down her shirt and got a boner or something. Boys.

I laugh again when I see her pull up her shirt with a little huff, probably thinking the same thing I did. Either that, or she was offended that everyone was making fun of her.

I step up to the second target and carefully aim the .45 Colt at it. I can feel Dean step up behind me. His warm, rough hands cover mine as he adjusts my grip._ Holy Jesus_, I think to myself. Before I lose my courage, I turn my head and smile at Dean and mumble a thanks.

He moves away again and I take a deep breath, aiming at the target and thinking about John Locke. I envision the bullet hitting the target in my third-no, my mind's-eye, and pull the trigger. Unlike Shelby, I'm prepared for the kick and only let out a little grunt. My hands are steady.

"Damn," Dean murmurs from behind me. Bobby lets out a whistle and Shelby shouts, "Al_right_, stop showing off!"

Even Sasquatch is impressed.

I give a little hair flip and hand Dean back his gun with a smirk on my face.

"Thanks for the lesson, dollface," I say with a wink. Shelby pretends to vomit from behind Dean and I snort unattractively. Dean looks confused and turns around to look at Shelby. She quickly puts on a straight face and asks, "So, what's next?"

Dean gives a slightly manic grin. "Hand-to-hand combat...but with knives."

Sam and Dean proceed to teach us both how to handle and throw knives, and also how to disarm potential stabbers. I learn that pushing someone with handcuffs by their shoulders makes them move around much more easily than just yanking them by their arms.

Sam also gets kicked in the balls-on "accident"-by Shelby. She actually does look pretty sorry for it though, while he writhes around in the dirt in pain. Dean fist bumps her behind Sam's back later and says, "Nice one."

The whole time I'm learning how to fight, I am partially distracted by how close Dean is to me. Every few minutes I get caught up in his gorgeous princess eyes. I'll throw a punch and he'll catch my fist and pull me closer to him. After a few short moments of heavy breathing and staring into each other eyes, I'll pull away and try kicking him.

One of the times we were sparring, he caught my foot and flipped me over so that I landed right onto my front (stomach). The breath was knocked out of me so I stayed on the ground for a few seconds. He knelt down next to me to apologize, "Sorry, it was instinct. Why don't you catch your breath for a minute before we start again-"

But I surprised him by rolling over onto my back and kicking his feet out from under him. He lands on his back with a thud and a grunt. I jump on top of him and straddle him, one hand pushing down on his shoulder the other balled up into a fist in striking position. I smile down at him, "You brought that one on yourself. Rule #2: Never let your defense down." The corners of his mouth quirked upwards, "Looks like the student just schooled the teacher."

Later, as it gets darker, Shelby and I are all sweaty from fighting, and are doing the last thing of the day: machete fighting. It was basically sword fighting, to be honest.

We stand about forty feet away from each other and each hold a huge machete. Before I can even think about my first move, Shelby runs at me and screams, "For Narniaaaaa!"

I let out a scream too- half for fear, half for the effect- and run towards her too. We meet in the middle and swing our machetes together above our heads. Sparks fly away from the impact. I look at my weapon in awe, "That was such a Star Wars kind of moment."

Shelby laughs and starts to come at me again, but trips. She lands on me and we both slam into the ground. Our machetes go flying across the dirt. The obvious thing for us to do is, of course, wrestle. We both laugh and roll around in the dirt.

"This is hopeless," Sam mutters from where he leans against one of the old cars. Bobby just shakes his head and chuckles at us, while Dean watches with amazement. I can hear him say something that sounds like, "I'm so _confused_."

"Alright you two, it's getting late," Bobby says after a while. Shelby has resorted to trying to poke me in the side repeatedly. I keep shrieking and trying to roll away from her, but she'll just grab my leg and pull me back. We're both completely breathless with laughter. Despite what Booby has suggested, we don't stop rolling around across the dirt. Eventually Sam and Dean pull us apart.

Utterly exhausted, we head inside to get ready for bed and climb into our sleeping bags. The boys are already laid out on cots. We lay in the dark silence for a few moments. Out of the darkness I hear a single, growly whisper from Shelby: "I'm Batman."

I giggle into my pillow uncontrollably, trying not to cackle so loudly that it wakes up the men sleeping a few feet from us. Suddenly, something heavy jumps on top of me. I let out a muffled squeal and smack Shelby's butt, which is in my face.

"What the hell?!" Dean grumbles. I can see his outline sit up from in front of us. But by now Shelby and I have decided that we're going to utilize Booby's swivel chair. I flop into it and Shelby launches me down the hallway and into a wall. My hair smacks her in the face.

"WEEEEEEEEE!" I continue to laugh and cackle my way up from the floor where I fell after being slammed into the wall. I then proceed to shove Shelby into the spinny chair and push her down the hall and into the bathroom. I hear a loud thud (which I assume is Shelby) and several other things hit the floor.

"Uhhh," she calls from inside the bathroom. "Hope no one needed that."

"Oh my sweet Lord, will you two just _go to sleep already_?" Dean whisper-shouts. I wonder why he doesn't just talk loudly. We were already making enough noise so that everyone was awake. Sure enough, Bobby comes down the stairs in a bathrobe with a lamp. Lamps are always very useful in times of need.

The three men-including a beautifully shirtless Dean-turn on the lights and cross their arms at the same time. I sit in silent awe of Dean while Shelby crawls out of the bathroom and points at me, "It was her idea!"

"It was not!" I shout indignantly. I cross my arms and make my best pouting face. Shelby struggles to climb up from the floor. Sam rolls his eyes and reaches down a hand to help her up. He's shirtless too, but no one cared because Dean was more gorgeous. And because Sam is Sasquatch.

"Just...go to bed," Bobby says tiredly. Shelby and I giggle and walk back into the living room and our sleeping bags.

"And yet, after everything today, I still kind of like them," Dean mumbles from behind us. Bobby sighs and chuckles a little.

"Yeah, they sure do add a little bit of much needed humor," he murmurs back. Sam says something I can't hear, which apparently offends Dean, because it's followed by a sharp smacking sound. Shelby and I giggle from on the floor.

"Just see how they do tomorrow, while I do what I can to learn where they're from and what their story is," Bobby says after a moment. They talk for a few more minutes before coming back in and settling in for the night. I realize just how exhausted I am, and giggle quietly. Sam and Dean would learn very quickly what I was like when I was tired, and around Shelby.

When everyone was in their designated sleeping spots, I whisper-sang, "Goodnight y'all! Sweet dreams! Don't let the bedbugs that we know are in here bite!"

Sam and Dean groan in unison while Shelby and I giggle again. Soon enough though, we all drift off to sleep, exhausted from our crazy day.

**A/N: Hi everyone! It's Lindsey! Nice to meet you :) Fun fact! Eating a meal together in a story symbolizes trust and the desire to spend time with people. [I read that in the book "How to Read Literature Like a Professor" - I recommend it for avid readers and writers!]**

**So this has taken us a little longer than we thought it would and just to be like every other writer I'll throw out some excuses- school and extracurriculars. We've been working on this a lot though, so don't ever lose faith in us! Hopefully, we'll update sooner next time. (Hopefully)**

**We would like to thank our amazing friend Amy for helping us with this chapter and giving us feedback, as well as dealing with how crazy we are. Thank you Amy! **

**Also, what may look like a typo of "Booby" instead of "Bobby" is, in fact, intentional. Just to be clear. :) **

**Remember to review! :) **


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